


King/Knight AU: Someone Else To Keep Safe

by Wadamwoltron



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fantasy AU, First Meeting, King/Knight AU, Knight Shiro, M/M, Mention of Death, Mention of blood, Prince Adam, implication of vomiting, iverson is dead im so sorry, king adam, kingdom au, lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:20:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21703606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wadamwoltron/pseuds/Wadamwoltron
Summary: This is the opening to an Adashi AU in which Shiro is a knight and Captain of the King's Guard, and Adam is the eventual ruler of his land after King Iverson is killed. Shiro is forbidden from pursuing romantic relationships as a devoted knight, but he finds himself drawn to the new king, and attempts to fight his emotions as he protects Adam at all costs. This beginning takes place before Adam is crowned, an honorary prince living in the castle under King Ive's care before his murder.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron)
Kudos: 8





	King/Knight AU: Someone Else To Keep Safe

The official report claimed he died peacefully, in his sleep, of an unknown ailment. However, the entirety of the castle would say the deep red drag marks against his walls largely proved otherwise. 

One of the maids found him first. In the early morning sun he cautiously knocked upon the door, a tray of ornate breakfast pastries resting atop his palm, and called the king’s name from behind the oak. Upon no response, he attempted to open the door, finding it nearly impossible to push against some sort of force pressing upon the other side. One of the knights was urgently summoned over to assist, though the true terror did not set in until a thick metallic smell permeated past the crack of light between them and the room. Nobody at the scene would talk about the state in which they found the king, but one could begin to muster an idea of it based on the screaming that rang down the arched hallways like a horrid choir. 

Takashi Shirogane wished he hadn’t responded so soon. His armor rattled back against the noise of the shrieking down the length of many hallways, the knight abandoning his post in the throne room at the first hint of terror. He grew to become thankful for the tears that blurred his vision upon entering the room, so that he never clearly saw the expanse of the scene. Shiro believed himself a person of strong will, though found those few moments in which he beheld the king’s body were enough to turn his stomach over and send him running. It was all the knight could do to simply wait outside the door as doctor after doctor poured in and attempted to assess what happened, the Marmora scattering to the other kingdoms to start searching for the answer. 

The council was the next to learn. None could find the will to gather in their great meeting hall, instead opting to cast themselves against the stairs of the throne room, more weary from fear and grief than they’d ever could have expected. The news traveled quickly amongst the maids, and it was only a matter of minutes before the kitchen fell to its knees, the courtyard frozen in its squire training, and the door of the prince tightly locked and bolted. The castle seemed to wail and rattle against the peaceful morning, and no amount of sunlight could brighten its interior. 

Within the hour, Shiro found the will to force himself to stand. There was somebody else he could still keep safe.

The armor clattered against his shoulders and dragged him back towards the horrors down the hall as Shiro thrust himself forward, seemingly covering little ground as he lunged for the false prince’s quarters. He was called such by those within the castle walls, those aware of his true connection to the king. The former king, rather. And yet he was a valued member of the castle and the court all the same, and if there were one other body today, it would be his.

Shiro caught the door in his peripheral, mostly by memory, as the edges of his vision seemed smeared like a ruined painting. Tossing himself against the wood, the knight proceeded without hesitation to beat against the door, his breath gargling in his throat.

“Sir! …Prince! Are you in there? Are you alright? Open up!” He ceased his bombardment for a moment to press his helmet against the wood, praying to hear even the slightest of movements. He let the seconds pass some before he stumbled back, hand on his sword.

“Sir, I will break through if you do not open this door immediately!” Another prolonged silence. In response, Shiro ripped his sword from its sheath and rose it over his head in a single swift motion, preparing his muscles to thrust forward against the lock on the door. A grunt rose in his throat as he forced his arms to move, only to halt mid-thrust as the metal clacked on the other side of the barrier, and suddenly a face stared blankly through the frame like a piece of preserved art.

Adam stared through the rims of his glasses, half moon and visibly dirty. His normally kept hair, which draped gently across his forehead like a desert palm frond, had been shoved seemingly violently backward, teased in a mess against the crown of his head. It wasn’t until Shiro caught the fading imprints of fingernails against the edges of the prince’s forehead that he realised it had been brushed back, unintentionally and aggressively. Adam bore a noble robe, a beautiful aqua satin embellished with the finest detail of gold trim and sun motifs, though it became obvious it was hastily thrown on, as the front was loosely tied, the cold truth of a plain nightshirt gazing through the chest. He leaned against the frame, his hands propping up his weak body as his reddened face and furrowed brow told the story of the state he was in. It was not until Shiro had taken in Adam to the fullest extent that he reevaluated his own person, still posed ready to strike with a sword halfway on its descent to Adam’s chest.

Upon the realization, Shiro panicked and released the sword from his weary hands, bracing his pulsing headache for the ring as it clattered to the ground behind him.

“Sir, I’m so sorry, I was fearful you had been–…are you alright?” Adam’s expression only changed with a move of his eyes, which flicked down to the sword on the ground and back up to Shiro’s horrified face.

“Physically yes,” Adam sighed. “Forgive me, I’d like to be alone at the moment.” He did not even care to await a reply before his face began to disappear behind the door once more, his gaze locked on Shiro in a stone cold fire. And suddenly the knight was alone once more.

Shiro collapsed against the wall behind him, exhaling the confusion and relief from his throat. Adam was at the very least safe, unharmed. And it was Shiro’s sworn duty to ensure he remained that way, very much like the duty he had failed before. Shiro’s eyelids became stained with red as the image of the king’s body slid across his memory. A bubbling rose in his throat again, a sensation he forced down with a shake of the head and a focus of the vision. Shiro locked his eyes upon the door, and shuffled his hand across the cold stone floor to wrap his fingers around his sword. There was no time to dwell upon the past. There was no time to reflect on how his failure would surely end in his removal from the guard, if not worse. And yet the only thing that mattered was to keep the man behind the door safe.

He hadn’t directly spoken to the prince before. Though the king always allowed Adam into essential meetings, and he freely roamed the castle grounds assisting workers when he could, he and Shiro had never once shared an exchange outside of a glance and a cordial nod every now and then, mostly as Adam was passing from one public service to another. He was no prince. The man had only been in the castle a small number of years, supposedly sent here by his parents in hopes that King Ive would care for him. And he did, with such unflinching devotion that much of the kingdom percieved the honorary prince, with the same sharp gaze and iron will as the king, to be his bastard son. Shiro had always assumed they must be related somehow, though he had known Ive for many years, and the king was not a man to leave his wife in secret. Adam was no prince.

Shiro found the strength to paw himself forward and collapse against the door itself, his exhaustion and grief swirling in his chest and twisting his brain. He was certain that the other side of the door was steeped heavily in the same emotions, if not more so. Adam had loved the king; as a mentor, a guardian, a friend. There were few times in important events where Adam was not at the king’s left side, accompanying his advisor Coran on the right. Though Shiro’s grief and guilt turned his blood slow and cold, he imagined it resonated ten-fold with the man behind the wall. Shiro was unsure he’d ever seen anyone look so tired before. Not in the traditional sense, but the melancholy, sunken, weary tired, that of someone who had lost something dear.

He pondered in a moment of clarity how Adam could have known so soon, as the king’s body had only just been discovered less than an hour prior. His chambers were just down the hall, however, and the metallic stench of murder had permeated the air in such a thickness that only a fool could wonder what had happened. The screaming and sobbing of the maids only confirmed any remaining suspicion.

Shiro let his head collapse against the door. He forced his hands to drag his sword across his lap, a relaxed yet ready position. He was far wearier than he expected, though he still had a duty to uphold. After a brief series of breaths, the knight willed himself to rise, bracing his weak muscles against the wall as he stood tall, readying himself for any other threats that could befall the prince. Should anybody dangerous come near this room, Shiro would be the first to know, and the last to remain standing.

The early morning turned bright and cold as the sun finished its ascent into the sky. Shiro’s eyes fluttered against the beam of light that burned against his lids, and he blinked away the sleep that seemed to have overcome him. He had no notion of when he had collapsed or how long he had been out. The knight attempted to peel the grogginess from his head as he smeared a hand across his face, squinting into the length of the hallway to assess the situation. The end of the wing remained as it had been before, though as Shiro turned towards the remainder of the castle, his peripheral caught the edge of a flowing robe, aqua satin with gold trim, standing immediately in front of him.

“Good morning, Captain,” Adam whispered.


End file.
